Distracted
by Chanialia
Summary: Emily has been fantasizing about Reid, but is too afraid to show it. What will happen when she lets her secret slip?
1. Chapter 1

Set sometime around season 5 or early season 6 . . . no Doyle, no Maeve.

* * *

She wasn't sure when it had started. One day he was just Reid, the genius kid on the team. Energetic, interesting, but too young to think about as anything more than a junior colleague. Then somehow one day she turned around and he was a *man*. Not the type of man who she'd really been attracted to before, but the more she looked the more attractive he became. She began noticing things about him that she never had before, like the elegance of his hands wrapped around a coffee cup. Or the way he wet his lips when he was nervous. Even the dark circles under his eyes when they were on a long case started to look good to her. She'd always enjoyed listening to his high-speed explanations of the crazy facts that he had memorized, but now they actually turned her on. How weird was that?

It had reached the point of distraction. She could barely look at him any more without imagining him in bed with her. It didn't help that she hadn't been properly laid in ages, and that she was in the middle of a woman's supposedly "peak" sexual years. (I really need to get a boyfriend,) she thought. (As if anyone would put up with this schedule.)

Afraid of showing her attraction, she did her best not to look at Reid too much. She felt like she couldn't trust herself to look without staring. And possibly drooling. (You really are pathetic, Emily,) she thought to herself. (Cute young thing like him, why should he look at you that way? And it's a good thing he doesn't, we have to work together.)

Unbeknownst to her, Reid was nursing silent hurt at her rejection. He was used to admiring girls from afar, and had put her in the "amazing but out of my league" category as soon as he had met her. But that couldn't stop him from thinking about her. How could help it, when they saw each other every day? He didn't know how he'd ended up surrounded by beautiful women in a job like this, but she was definitely the star to him. Even when he tried to think of someone else in his lonely bed, his mind always came back to her. He counted himself lucky that at least they were friends. Or at least, he thought they were until she started avoiding him. He tried to think of anything that he could have done wrong, any reason for the change, but came up empty.

The team was noticing too, and assumed the same that Reid did—that something had made her angry. They assumed it would blow over, but it didn't seem to be getting better.

One night they were stuck in a hotel after a case, waiting for weather to clear so they could fly back to DC.. At 10 pm when it didn't seem to show any sign of improving, Hotch told the team they'd stay the night and try again in the morning. Morgan suggested a drink at the hotel bar. Hotch and Rossi declined, but JJ, Reid, and Prentiss agreed. It had been a rough case.

By midnight they had all had a couple and were feeling better, or at least drunker. Morgan and JJ watched as Emily made conversation, jokes even, yet studiously avoided interacting with Reid. For his part, Spencer was feeling resentful and was starting to show it as the drinks had their effect. Grouchy Reid was not good company. Finally JJ yawned and excused herself. Morgan looked at his friends, as confused as Reid about what had gone wrong between them. "I'm going to turn in too," he said, noticing Emily starting to get up as he left the table. "No, no. I don't know what's going on here, but I think you two need to talk." He left, hoping maybe they would work out their differences, whatever they were.

Emily stared at her drink, suddenly alone with the object of her fantasies but with nothing she could do about it. (I feel like I'm in high school again. I guess I haven't been as subtle as I thought. Then again, we are profilers.) She downed what was left and held up her class to the bartender to show she wanted another. (Is that wise? You've already had twice as much as the others, just trying to stay relaxed while he's sitting next to you.)

Meanwhile, Spencer watched her, still racking his brain to figure out what he could have possibly done wrong. "Why aren't you speaking to me?" he finally asked.

"What do you mean? I'm talking to you right now."

"No you're not. You're talking to the table. You talk to everyone lately, except me. You can't even look at me."

"That's not true." Even as she denied it, she knew it was.

"What did I do? Why are you mad at me? Whatever I did or said, I'm sorry. But I'd really like to know what it was so I don't do it again." Spencer's tone was pleading. It brought her eyes to his, which hadn't happened in a long time. For a moment she let herself stare into them, seeing the hurt there before dropping her gaze again.

(As if this wasn't bad enough, now I've hurt his feelings. Now what?)

"It's not you. You didn't do anything wrong. It's me." (Really Emily? That sounded like a breakup speech. You're going to have to be more convincing than that.)

"I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, I'm just really . . . distracted lately."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I just . . . I can't look at you because I get distracted."

"How am I distracting?"

"You really don't know, do you? I listen to you. I like listening to you. But I can't watch you talk because I end up watching your lips, and I can't look at your lips without thinking about how they would taste."

Spencer was speechless. It was the last thing he had expected to hear. Emily hadn't meant to say it, but once she started it was as if the floodgates had opened, so in his silence she continued babbling.

"And I can't look at your hands . . . those long fingers, without imagining them on my skin." She allowed herself a brief glance over at his hands on the table as she admitted this, but missed Spencer gaping at her as she continued to look anywhere but at his face. "Even when your back is turned I'm not safe. I see those narrow hips, and wonder how they would feel between my legs . . ." Emily looked over at him in time to see Spencer frozen in place, stunned. (Oh my god,) she thought. (What the hell am I doing? I have to get out of here.)

"I'm sorry, I'm drunker than I realized. Forget it, I don't know what I'm saying. Goodnight." She stood up hurriedly, stumbling slightly as she rushed from the room.

Too late, Spencer reached for her hand. "Wait . . . " But she was already gone.

(Wow.) In all of Spencer's fantasies of her, never once had he imagined that she would ever fantasize about him. Much less that she might actually admit it. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his arousal before standing up. He had an errand to run.

* * *

(Oh god, oh god, oh god . . . ) Emily felt sick. Somehow, she managed to make it all the way into her own room and bathroom before throwing up. (Oh god, how could I actually say those things out loud? I'm drunk. Obviously. I'll say it was the alcohol talking . . . will he even believe that?) She felt a little better after emptying her stomach, but still dizzy, and overheated. And of course humiliated. She sat there on the floor beside the toilet, replaying the scene in her mind. (That look on his face . . . he's not interested. Not even a little bit.) She turned the shower on and adjusted the water to cool before disrobing and stepping in, rinsing her mouth over and over as the water streamed down her skin. She just wished she could wash away what she'd said.


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later Spencer knocked softly on Emily's door. It had taken longer that he expected to find somewhere to buy some condoms, and in the meantime he'd sobered up enough to have doubts that this was a good idea. (She'll deny everything and then never speak to me again. We still have to work together. What am I doing? What if the team finds out? She's probably asleep anyway . . .)

Emily came to the door, hair still damp and freshly changed into a t-shirt and pajama pants. Most of the alcohol had worn off, leaving her still slightly buzzed but mostly tired. Her stomach clenched nervously when she checked the peephole to see who was standing there. (Tell him it was a mistake, make him go away . . . ) Almost despite herself, she opened the door. There he was, as handsome as ever, stepping inside before she could say anything. She stepped back, afraid to make contact. She fully expected some kind of I-like-you-but-not-that-way speech. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he didn't. He moved toward her, the look on his face intense, focused. He closed the door behind him.

Resigned to apologizing, she figured she'd have to talk first. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" but he cut her off with a kiss. (Mmm . . . I can't, we can't . . . oh god he tastes so good . . . ) His hands buried in her hair as her arms went around him, pressing herself tightly against his lean body. He moaned at the contact as their lips and tongues slid together.

(Yes yes yes . . . I must be dreaming . . . and I don't care if I am, just don't ever stop . . . ) She'd known he was tall, but had never noticed it the way she was now, leaning back and rising on her toes to reach that wonderful mouth. She felt dizzy and off-balance and drunk all over again, hardly believing that this could really be happening.

"Emily," he breathed in her ear, before starting to kiss his way down her neck. "I've wanted you for so long." She shivered as those big hands she'd dreamed about began sliding up her back under her t-shirt. He walked her backwards the few steps to the bed and she stood there as he pulled her shirt over her head. His hands felt as good as she'd hoped as he stroked over her breasts and stomach, then around to her back again as he bent to lick and suck at her nipples.

For a while she just stood there enjoying it, stroking his hair and shoulders as she reveled in the feeling of having him finally here with her. If only she had known that all she had to do was admit she wanted him! Eventually she began to tug at the bottom of his shirt. Obligingly he unbuttoned it and shrugged it off before lowering them on to the bed.

Both of them gasped at the sensation as their bare skin made contact for the first time and they began kissing again, even more deeply than before, their legs twining together. Emily could feel his hardness pressing against her through their clothing. What a thrill to know that she could do that to him, after the way he had been turning her on for months now without even knowing it. He mumbled something in her ear, but she couldn't understand what it was. "What did you say?" she asked.

He pulled back above her for a moment, grinning. "I said, is this distracting enough for you?"

Emily giggled despite herself, meeting his smile happily. "It's getting there." She slid her hands under the back of his waistband, cupping his smooth ass and pulling him closer to make her point. He groaned, his mouth slamming onto hers once again before beginning a journey down her body. His hands were busy, sliding her pajamas and panties down together until he had to sit up to pull them off her legs.

For a moment he just gazed at her as she looked up at him, the air of the hotel fan cooling her heated skin. "You're so beautiful." His voice cracked a little, emotion breaking through his arousal. Emily's throat tightened as she heard that so she didn't reply, but instead sat up with him, running her hands up his arms and over his torso. They breathed together as she looked into his eyes, seeing her own hope mirrored back. They kissed again, sweetly this time, lust on hold for just a moment as they both realized this would be something more than just relief for their obsessive fantasies.

Before long their hands began wandering again, and Spencer drew back to watch her face as he slid one hand between her legs. At first he just cupped her, his hand warming her even more as he pressed and circled gently. She was dripping wet already and he felt it against his fingers. The feeling was sweet torture as she gave in to the sensation, loving it but wanting more. Finally he slid a finger through her wetness and up to her clitoris, circling and stroking it deliciously. Emily moaned and fell back against the bed, helpless with pleasure. Her body arched, pressing against his hand. He continued his ministrations, gentle and steady as watched her move. His fingertips dipped repeatedly into her, teasing.

Emily moaned louder than ever as he slid two fingers deep inside her, his thumb continuing to stroke her clit. The feeling confirmed what she had known all along, that those hands could do things to her that she'd never felt before. Aroused past the point of speaking, she pulled him down to her and kissed him greedily as she continued to ride his hand. She tugged at him, wanting him inside her but at the same time not wanting him to stop what he was doing. Without warning he broke the kiss and slid down her body, replacing his thumb with his mouth as his fingers kept stroking inside. Her hands clutched at the sheets. His other arm held down her writhing hips. His tongue and fingers stroked and stroked until finally she exploded, gasping and moaning. Lights went off behind her eyelids as it went on and on, his tongue relentless as he held her down.

He withdrew his fingers but continued lapping at her gently and slowly as she came back to her senses. She whimpered when he finally stopped. He smiled at her and took her own hand, placing it between her legs as he stood up. He dug in his pocket for the package of condoms, removing them and placing them on the bed before taking his pants off. He sighed with relief as his erection sprang free. She gazed up at him, admiring his body. She felt strangely unselfconscious as her fingers stroked her sensitized flesh. With her other hand she reached out to stroke his hardness. He took her hand in his, making her squeeze him a little tighter as she slid her hand slowly up and down the velvety skin.

Wanting to taste him, she sat up halfway and brought her mouth to him. She took a long, slow lick from the base up to the ridge, swirling her tongue there as she felt him tremble. Then she kissed the tip, slowly opening her lips to slide him into her mouth. She heard him moan softly above her as his hands came to rest gently on her hair and shoulder. Losing herself in the feel and taste, she sucked and stroked him, pulling him into her mouth as far as she could and spiraling her tongue around the tip.

Spencer was in heaven, watching the beautiful woman he'd thought beyond his reach pleasure him so willingly. But he knew he couldn't last long like this, so before he really wanted to he pulled away and reached for the condoms. Emily continued stroking his legs and behind as she watched him smooth one over himself. She lay back as he crawled over her, adjusting her hips as he lowered himself between her legs. He used the tip to tease her opening as she tried to push closer. She stilled as he looked into her eyes again, both of them realizing that this was going to change everything.

"Oohh yes . . ." she breathed as he pushed into her, filling and stretching her with his size. She had pictured this moment so many times, but the reality of feeling him inside her was so much better than she could have imagined. He paused once he was all the way in, breathing hard against her shoulder, their bodies glued together from chest to toes. As she relaxed, adjusting to him, he pushed just a little deeper and she moaned from the hot pressure against her clit.

After a long moment he began grinding into her slowly, his lower body still pressed against her, rubbing that spot as he kept his cock buried deep. "Yes . . . yes . . . like that . . . so good . . . ooh . . ." she encouraged as her pleasure built and built. She grabbed his ass again, feeling his muscles flex as he gradually moved faster.

Spencer held back, wanting to pound himself into her, but loving the response he was getting as she gasped and moaned and clutched at him. Soon she was coming again, her body thrashing against him as she cried out, her inner muscles pulsing and squeezing him tightly. He helped her ride it out, then gave in to the impulse to give it to her deeper and faster.

Emily looked up at him through her post orgasmic haze, knowing what he needed. His quick, hard thrusts felt just as good to her now as she wrapped her legs around his hips to take him more deeply. Sure enough, his thin build made the feeling of him between her legs like this better than any lover she'd ever had. They moaned together now with every push as he neared the brink. She stretched up to kiss his neck, his ears, anything she could reach, until his mouth locked onto hers again as he came, shuddering and groaning as he continued pumping into her.

Gradually he slowed to a stop but stayed inside her, her arms and legs still wrapped around him tightly. Emily savored the feeling of being covered and filled by him, their bodies relaxing until they finally pulled apart to breathe. "Wow," she said finally. "Yeah," he replied, his usual verbosity temporarily dulled. Wrapped in each other's arms, they drifted to sleep.

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My first fanfic ever posted, though I've sure fantasized them often enough! Reviews appreciated.


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